Struck
by YuKiOnA-Ga
Summary: "Maybe the coroner would know. Maybe the man or woman that would examine her mangled, ruined corpse would know that it wasn't the rain. It was the lightning." Anastasia Black dies of a violent accident and now faces an entirely new struggle ahead of her. OCXLegolas, Tenth Walker. Rating may change as the chapters progress.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, all! I just want to say something before we begin:**

**I don't believe in Mary Sues'-I think that is a term that is given to those who don't see the beauty in writing. Every character I make, I make for a reason and each has their own set of problems that can be unearthed and revealed, and I see all characters that way. So, no, before you ask, this is no Mary Sue story.**

**True, I will admit, the plot is unoriginal and overused. I am putting my own twists on it, however, and I'm sure many can enjoy a bit of it. If I bore you entirely, you are free to leave at any time, and there will be no hard feelings between us.**

**Also, this story will be a collaboration between the books and the movies, leaning heavily on the books. **

**Neither, however, is mine.**

Chapter One:

Those Who Wander May Get Lost

_"Although no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending.-Carl Bard._

They would say the rain had caused it.

When they found her, they would claim it was a freak accident, and they would blame the rain.

_They_ being the local paper, the News Crews, her family-_they_ being those that saw and knew that Anastasia Black was no more and that she had fallen seven stories to hard, black cement that looked like wet blood.

_They _being those that gave half a damn.

Maybe the coroner would know. Maybe the man or woman that would examine her mangled, ruined corpse would know that it wasn't the rain.

It was the lightning.

Anna relished the storms in North Carolina. The violence. How quickly they came and gone. The way it sounded on the roof of her tin-roofed apartment. They way it smelled, the way it brought life and a fresh newness to the world. She adored the way it seemed give anything and everything a second chance. The lightning gave it strength-the thunder gave it meaning. The entire experience brought the young blonde woman peace and hope for another day.

But she'd never see the rising sun after this particular storm.

No, it seemed she was destined for something more.

)O(

"Gandalf! Gandalf! I think she's waking up!"

"Calm yourself, Peregrin Took," an old, crackling voice, like dried leaves under your shoes in the autumn, intoned to the much higher one.

"She's moving an awful lot, Gandalf," another voice, lower, and soft murmured.

"Give her time, Mr. Samwise," the older voice chuckled, "The young lady must decide if she wants to greet us."

The answer was a very clear _no _on Anastasia's side, but the entire scene sounded a bit too curious for her to pass up. Besides, the deep ache in her left side had grown into a full blown throbbing, a pain that seemed to pull at her very insides.

Sighing, she cracked her green eyes and whined at the light stabbed like golden daggers at her constricted pupils.

"Shh, Pip, she's waking' up!"

"Come now, my dear, the day is growing old. Get up, greet the sun, for he is smiling gayly upon us."

"And that is exactly the problem," Anna snapped, pushing herself up with her right arm.

Her left side seemed to split with pain and she gasped, holding her hand over the wound, finding tight bandages wrapped securely over the hurt. It seemed to span from her breasts to her hip and down her left leg, and Anna nearly choked on tears at the pain.

"Easy, dear," the old man commanded. "Or you will feel the wound much more keenly."

"Oh, trust me," Anna gasped, "I'm feeling it _very keenly._"

The images before her were blurry with tears, but she could tell immediately that she was no longer in her home, although where it was she couldn't tell, and that everything around her was foreign and frightened her.

She had fallen from her balcony, after the lightning had struck her wrist, drawn to the little metal arrow that was between the shining beads of an old bracelet, and knocked her clear off her perch, down into the alley between apartment buildings. She hadn't worn that trinket in months, and when she did it ended up nearly killing her. Go figure.

"Are you alright?" The high voice questioned again, and she squinted at the little figure by her bed. He had bright red hair and pudgy pink cheeks, making him seem very young. That, and he was only about three feet tall.

"I'll be fine," she growled through her gritted teeth. "I just...need a moment..."

"Peregrin Took, you insufferable child!" The older voice boomed, "Give the young lady her space!"

The deeper voice belonged to an old man, a _very _old man with a beard the length of his belt, his eyes lively and as blue as cornflowers. His voice was harsh to the young boy, and Anna felt bad for him, reminded of her younger brother.

"It's fine, it's fine," Anna muttered, putting her palm out, "Play nice, boys."

The older man laughed, his voice deep and soothing.

As the pain subsided, Anna was able to pay closer attention to her surroundings. The ceilings were high and sculpted, the pillars made of wooden beams carved intricately like trees, and the windows were large arches carved into stone walls. Sunlight streamed along the four visitors in her room, three very short and one near monstrous in his height, even while sitting while the others stood. The small boys were peering over her coverlet to see her, making Anna want to laugh. The sheets under her palms were cool and smooth, like the finest Egyptian Cotton, and everything around her seemed archaic and foreign. When she looked at the people beside her, they were dressed in robes and tunics, scabbards on their leather belts, baring the shiny hilts of swords.

They looked like something out of a fantasy movie, and Anna felt that she was, indeed, very far from home and most likely never returning.

"Am I dead...?" She asked herself, her throat thick and tight with the thought.

"Very much alive, we are happy to say, Milady," one of the boys said, wringing his hands and refusing to meet her eyes. "Strider found you, he did, and he brought you here to Rivendell to heal. He saved you, yes, he did, and the elves here saved your life."

"Excuse me," Anna cleared her throat, finding it hard to breathe and talk, "I...I think I misheard you, dear, but did you...say Elves? Like...like...Elves?"

"Yes, Milady, I did."

Anna blinked, her mind stuttering to a stop before a deranged sounding giggle left her mouth.

"Oh, I didn't believe Elves existed," she chortled, "But if I was saved by them, well, I..."

Her wrist gave a scream of protest when she tried to grab at her bedding, and she looked down to see bandages along her forearm as well.

Morbid curiosity gripped her, and she began to unwind the bandages quickly, revealing her skin by the inch. When the long ribbon fell to the soft covers, her heart stopped at the sight of her once pale, unmarred skin covered with odd markings. Where the pendant had sat, slipping to the inside of her wrist, was as white as snow, surrounded by dark brown stripes that ran up to her elbow, looking uneven and broken like lightning itself. There were no markings on her hand, but the arrow was prominent and obvious on the underside of her wrist and forearm, and the lines were ugly and discolored.

"What...?"

"You were injured very severely," the old man said suddenly, "You are lucky that Lord Elrond is such a talented healer."

She choked, tears hot and damning in her eyes. They fell at an alarming rate, and she rubbed at her skin with her hand, hoping the brown blemishes would fade with her touch, but it remained when she blinked away the salt water.

"My dear," she shot the older man a dark look, feeling far to revealed in nothing but a shift and bandages, "You are lucky to be alive."

"Of course," she murmured, but only because it was the right thing to say.

Anastasia Black was a vain individual. She wouldn't dare attempt to lie to herself, and she knew that these scars hurt so much worse than anything else did. She would have preferred to be dead than covered with the lesions that now littered her skin. She shivered to think about what would lie beneath the other dressings.

She knew she was pretty-remarkably so. She had natural features that could easily be highlighted with brief touches of makeup, like high cheekbones and big, forest green eyes rimmed with dark lashes. Her hair had natural high and lowlights, a deep honeyed blonde that fell around her waist, waving gently around the ends, and was like golden silk to the touch. Her lips were full, but dull and often chapped from her near constant habit of chewing and the nibbling of various boyfriends. Her teeth were whitened to a natural shade, and perfectly straight and strong, thanks to her grandfather. Her waist was trim, but soft in the belly, and she was fairly short, which seemed to attract every jock at her old high school. Her skin was pale and unblemished since she was thirteen and learning that it was permanently ruined would not sit well with anyone, especially a twenty-one year old girl who put so much pride into her appearance.

"What's your name?" The youngest boy asked, peeking at her with bright brown eyes that sparkled with mischief.

"Anastasia. But you can just call me Anna," the girl murmured, out of instinct more than anything.

"I'm Pippin," he answered, offering her a hand.

Smiling softly, Anna wiped her eyes and took his hand in hers, giving it a gentle shake.

"Nice to meet you, Pippin."

"I'm Merry!" Another small boy piped up, only a bit taller than his friend. "It's good to meet you, Lady Anna."

She took his offered hand as well.

"Lovely to meet you, too, Merry."

She kept it to herself that was a common girls name to her.

"I'm," the last redhead spoke quietly, still not looking at her, "My name is Samwise Gamgee, Lady Anna. It's lovely to finely meet you!"

"It's good to meet you as well, Samwise," she smiled kindly at him, and he blushed a bright, carnation pink and shuffled his feet.

"I," the final man spoke last, his voice clear and ringing with authority, "Am Gandalf the Grey."

That sounded familiar in Anna's mind, and she sought hard for why she knew the name. She looked at him, his smoke colored robes mirroring his title. His beard was tucked into a silver belt looped around his waist. He appeared wizened beyond his years, and Anna dated him to be around his sixties or seventies. Maybe older, but had merely aged well.

"Nice to meet you, Gandalf," she smiled softly at him, for he did not offer her a hand to shake, but instead bowed his head in greeting.

"Well!" He stood with jerk, making Anna jump. He took a wooden staff in his grip and ushered the young ones from the room with a swift pat to each. "We will leave you to your own devices. I suggest, kindly, that you do not strain yourself, and rest as much as possible. We will return this evening," he smiled, his eyes alight, and disappeared through an arch.

As soon as 'Gandalf the Grey' was gone from her sight, Anna flipped the coverlet from her legs, and began to slowly, painfully slide off the bed, her feet dangling over the edge. Anastasia tore at the bandages along her leg, revealing more of the odd markings. The long scars appeared to be deep, and felt very sore and painful to the touch, but they were not dark. Standing shakily, Anna stumbled to a shiny metal bowl before unwinding the gauze about her waist and chest, afraid of what she'd find.

When she saw, and felt, all that ran along her left side, she leaned on the wall and sobbed openly. In the shiny silver, she could view jagged pieces of glass from the beads of her bracelet were embedded in her skin, blinking dully in the light of the midday sun. Dark bruising ran along the markings of her side, and some grooves had been torn open and had scabbed over, nearly black. The mark itself resembled a tree. The scoring edged under her breast, opening up and spreading like branches of a great maple, and along her waist they were close and pressed tight together, before flaring around her hip, running over her buttock and near her pubic bone. The beads were around the top, and looked like black and blue twisted fruit, and when Anna ran her fingers over the raised skin, she gagged and cried harder, moving to cover herself. She limped back to her bed, shaking, slipping back into the warmth the down blanket provided.

When she closed her eyes she imagined she was back home, sitting with a tub of Blue Bunny ice-cream and watching movies about World War II, Spartan heroes and the battles of Troy. She cried deeply, frightened and pained, until her mind tired itself and put her to sleep.

**I dearly hope, at the very least, SOME people enjoyed this. If you hated it, please forgive me-if so much disdain will occur from this, I'll take it down. If you enjoyed it, I will gladly update! Review and let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again! I want to thank my fabulous reviewers, glad to receive no flames! Because of you all, I have updated rather quickly. I hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 2: Exploration Leads to Introductions

_When we are no longer able to change a situation - we are challenged to change ourselves._  
_Viktor E. Frankl_

Anna woke a few hours later, her head tucked into her folded arms and the feeling that someone was watching her. When she lifted her head, she found a beautiful young woman in her doorway, a man with a serious expression standing forebodingly behind her. They both appeared only partially there, so ethereal and unearthly that it was both mildly unnerving and calming at the same time.

"Anastasia," the woman cooed, coming in and perching herself daintily at the side of her bed, "I am Arwen."

"...Hi," the blonde murmured, a little speechless.

"This is my father, Lord Elrond," she motioned to the man behind her and he nodded respectfully in her direction.

"...Right..."

"We have come to see your wounds, since it appears," she saw the ribbons of dressings along the stone floors, "You have unbound them."

"They're fine," Anna answered quickly. "I thank you, Lord Elrond," she locked eyes with him, "Gandalf informed me that you healed me, and I owe you my life. However, I feel that...I feel fine," she finished lamely. "I don't see any need to look at the..."

She couldn't make herself say the word.

"Marks."

Arwen gazed at the other woman with a deep, knowing gaze that scared Anna into silence.

The dark haired woman turned her head to look upon her father, Elrond, and they shared an internal conversation. When the bearer of the Evenstar turned her head, Anna was able to clearly see her pointed ears and her vision swirled unevenly.

_'Elves...'_ Anastasia realized, her stomach and mind roiling.

When she came back to herself, the man was gone, and the woman looked concerned.

"Are you ill?"

"I got struck by lightning," Anastasia snapped, unable to keep her emotions fully in check, tears back in her eyes, "I have these...disfigurations all over my left side, and I _hurt. _I have no idea where I am, or where my family is...I'm scared and pained and-and..." she shivered, trying not to cry.

Arwen placed a cool hand on the younger woman's cheek.

"I know. We will do all that we can to assure that your pain will be gone by morning, but I must be able to reach your damaged flesh."

Anna shook her head, furious as hot water dripped down her cheeks.

"Anastasia, _please_, I beg of you, let me help you."

The woman locked gazes with the elf, and her lip trembled.

"It's disgusting," she whispered, only able to be heard by the most advanced of hearing, "I'm disfigured."

Arwen sighed, her eyes full of pity. She pushed the mere girl (by her standards, being over two-thousand years old) on the shoulder, making her lay back on her right side. Anna covered her face with her hands and cried, while the Elven woman rolled the white shift up and stared at the lightning shadows created by the blast.

When the woman began to chant softly, Anna quieted to hear the odd language. It sounded like a configuration between Latin and French, both old and beautiful, something undefinable about her words. The odd chanting lulled Anna into a meditative state as the Lady of Rivendell let her hands hover over the marred tissue and began to heal the deep hurting. The dark scabbing became light scars, fading into the lesions, and the pain became near nonexistent.

Arwen tried to remove the lightning shadows-but the magic of nature was too strong for her to alter, and she realized that the shadowy characters along the woman's skin would be there forever.

After a few more moments, Arwen withdrew her power and replaced the girl's clothing.

"How do you feel, Lady Anastasia?"

She was silent for a few moments.

"Better. A lot better. Thank you," she murmured. "What did you do...?"

"I healed you."

Anna slowly sat up, only a little sore, as if she had pushed herself too hard in the gym.

"You're...you're really an elf."

"Yes. I am the daughter of Elrond and the Lady Celebrian."

"...I thought elves were just in fairy tales."

"I can assure you we are very real," Arwen laughed gayly, and Anna was awed by her beauty.

"Well, yes, I believe that now," Anna murmured, blushing.

Arwen stood.

"I will allow you rest. Should you require anything, all you need is tell someone and they will fetch me."

The twenty-one year old human girl nodded, near tears again.

"Thank you very much, Lady Arwen."

The Elven woman smiled, slightly touched by the honesty in the Human woman's voice.

"You are very welcome."

)O(

After three days of resting, Anastasia had snuck from her rooms with two rambunctious Hobbits ushering her on. Her fear had morphed into curiosity soon enough and she began to interact with those around her more, Arwen especially, whom she adored, and the Hobbits that were there when she first awoke. Her memories of home fled as the days passed, and if one were to ask her of her previous life, she could only recall the smallest of things. She tried hard to remember at night, but it was lost upon her when the sun rose. The more she stayed in this world, the more she became a part of it.

Hobbits were another shock, as well something else that continued to plague her. She knew there was something familiar about the entire world she was experiencing, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Anna had thought, and thought hard, about all that she had learned and realized, but found that, although distressing, it seemed less foreign than it did originally.

Chasing Merry around a pillar, she gave him a bright grin.

"I'm going to get you, Merry!" She called, breathless, nearly slipping on the pale green, silk slippers she was given. "You can't outrun me forever!"

"I can sure try!" He sang as he dodged her grip and she piled her long dress in her hand and began to run after the Hobbit again.

She lost him in a thicket of underbrush, trees towering above her, and she stopped for a moment, trying to catch her breath.

"I'm going to find you..." she sang, softly, her voice ricocheting off the silver-grey pillars of trunks around her. "Where have you gone, Merry...?"

There was a giggle near her right and she pounced, but there was nothing in but leaves in her hands. She hummed, her cheeks beginning to ache from her constant grinning.

"Well," she sighed dramatically, "I guess if Merry isn't here, I'll just go back to my room..."

There was another giggle and she spun around, looking for a flash of red hair.

Giggles began to come from various spots and Anna whipped in different directions, listening intently.

"Pippin Took!" She cried, "Are you out here, too?"

Another laugh, higher in pitch, came from behind her, along with a mocking,

"Maybe..."

"Oh, you two are going to _get it!" _

The laughter seemed to fill the trees, and she joined in, unable to resist. She paused, listening again. She closed her eyes, focusing on all the sounds around her, gasping with triumph when she bent and captured a wriggling Peregrin in her arms as he was about to dash by.

"One down!" She swung him around, putting him down gently. "One to go!"

Pippin pouted, looking thoroughly put out and she ruffled his hair.

"Find Merry quick!" He implored as she she began to search for the other Hobbit from the Shire, "Then we can start a new game!"

"I'm looking-"

There was another sound, suddenly, a hurried _thunking_, and Anastasia looked up to see Sam running as quickly as his feet would allow, waving his arms wildly and shouting. The young woman raced up to meet him, Pippin following, Merry still hidden in the thrush.

"Sam, what it is it?"

He began sputtering words that ran in unsynchronized strings, making no sense to either Human or Hobbit.

"Easy, Sam, easy," Anna got on her knees to place her hands placatingly on his shoulders. "Breathe. That's good, Sam, just take a deep breath, calm down for a moment. Now," she locked eyes with him, "What is going on?"

"Master Frodo is awake!"

Merry popped out of the shrubbery to her left like a wildflower, hooting wildly. Pippin joined him, clapping his hands and doing a comical little jig in a circle, before dashing up the dirt path, grabbing Sam by the arm. Merry laughed, completely forgetting Anna and following the other Hobbits along the path towards their friend.

The young woman, a little put out, sighed. She turned to the opposite direction of the Hobbits and began strolling along the path, letting her hand slide along the bark of the trees. Her arm ached a bit, as well as her side, but it was nothing that it once was. Her leg no longer hindered her at all, and she walked easily through the trees, seeing that some had already donned their more colorful robes of red and orange. Anna inhaled the sweet, chilled Autumn air, feeling the promise of winter on the wind.

"Beautiful isn't it?"

Anna whipped around, shocked to find a man with darkened hair and a kind smile on his face right behind her.

"Yes..." she breathed, "You make little noise, sir."

"Aragorn."

"Nice to meet you. I'm," she cleared her throat, "Anastasia. Anna, for short, though."

"You are the one from the forest..." he eyed her form, "Yes, the one with the emblem on her arm."

Anna gripped the sleeve of her dress.

"You are Strider?"

"I have many names, Lady Anna, and Strider is indeed one of them." He motioned to the path, "May I walk with you?"

Anna nodded, her hand still gripping the spot where the pendant sat, near translucent on her wrist.

"How do you fare?"

"I'm better. Lady Arwen is marvelous healer, like her father."

He seemed interested to hear about the Elven woman.

"You speak to Arwen?"

Anna nodded, "Often. I'd even call her my friend," she smiled kindly, thinking fondly of the Elf.

He made a noise of understanding, something masculine and monosyllabic.

Anna smiled, thinking to herself,

_'No matter where, men all lack the talent of speech...'_

"How is it that you came to be in the forest?" He asked suddenly.

"I...I don't really remember," she answered half truthfully. "I was struck by the lightning when I was at my home. Then I woke up in Rivendell, surrounded by Hobbits and a grey Wizard."

Again, she seemed to shock him.

"You have spoken to Gandalf as well?"

She nodded.

"He was there when I first regained consciousness. I have not seen him since, however. The boys have just dashed off to see Frodo, he appears to have just woke up."

He nodded, "I just came from there. Gandalf was with him when he first woke, and they have been conversing for some time."

"What happened?" Anna asked, not really sure if it was appropriate to ask or not.

"He was stabbed with the poisonous blade of a RingWraith. He will heal, but there will always be a touch of darkness in him that will not fade," he sighed, looking older suddenly, more burdened.

"Sometimes," Anna spoke, unsure of where such words came from, and completely unaware as to what a 'RingWraith' was, "Darkness helps us-it makes us see the light so much more clearly. In others as well as ourselves."

He gazed at her, his eyes nearly as dark as his pupils.

"Indeed," he murmured, a soft smile pulling at his lips, "Indeed. You are clever for one so young. You have seen much, haven't you?"

Anna swallowed, "Yes, I suppose you could say that..."

He said nothing more, his eyes trained forward to the path.

"We should turn around soon," he told her. "I must get back, and I would not feel at peace if you were alone in these woodlands, even if they are so close to Rivendell."

"I suppose we must go back then," she sighed.

He glanced at her sideways, "You do not wish to return?"

She shrugged and gave a little chuckle, feeling like a misbehaving child, "Arwen will be upset with me. I'm not really...allowed out of my room yet. I snuck out with Pippin and Merry."

He laughed, deeply, his head thrown back and his hair teased by the winds rushing around them.

"I will handle her," he promised. "There will be quite a feast tonight to celebrate Frodo coming back to us, and I would like to see you there."

"Well, what can I deny my savior?" Anna teased, smiling back at him.

"It is settled then," he bowed to her, "I shall see you this eve, Lady Anastasia."

"And I, you, Aragorn," she curtsied back, and, still chuckling, they walked back to the large towering halls of Rivendell.

**Well? Please let me know about how you feel it is proceeding! It makes me very happy to see when others are enjoying my work! Please review! Thank you!**

**-Yukiona Ga.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Of Parties and the Consequences Thereof

_"The snake which cannot cast its skin has to die. As well the minds which are prevented from changing their opinions; they cease to be mind." _  
_― Friedrich Nietzsche_

"Peregrin Took! You give me that back!" Anna cried, lunging for the Hobbit, who was holding her slipper in his hands. "If you don't hand that over in three...two..."

He giggled, like a child, and dashed out into the halls, disappearing. Anastasia gave a little tired laugh, sitting back down in a chair, letting Arwen return to her hair. The lady had dressed the younger woman in a gown of her own, a deep forest green that gave life to the deep gold of her hair and her green irises.

"Hobbits," she chuckled, shaking her head.

Arwen smiled, Anna could feel it behind her like sunlight streaming through the tree limbs.

"He knows that you will chase him, so he has to run," the Elf murmured, running her cool hands through Anna's long, tangle free tresses. She kept the style elegant, merely pinning two strands of blonde cornsilk behind her head and placed a styled, metal comb in the back, keeping the hair in place.

"Well, now I'm lacking a slipper," they laughed together, unable to keep it in.

"He is not far," Arwen promised, "I can hear him breathing."

"Truly? That's impressive," Anna fiddled with her bell sleeves checking to make sure her odd scar was hidden from view.

"Yes, but he scuttled off after I said that. Hobbits are rather good at not getting caught," The Elven woman laughed, and Anna sighed, standing.

When she caught a glimpse of herself in the polished silver she used as a mirror, Anna couldn't help but pause and stare at the long dress and the very peculiar way she appeared. Her face, her body-it was still hers, it still belonged to her, but it felt so...wrong. It felt as if she had never been within it's confines before and now, in Middle Earth surrounded by mythical creatures, she felt even more foreign in her own skin than before. She never felt fully at peace while she was there-but it never felt so uncomfortable as it did then.

"...Anna?"

"Coming," she murmured, putting a off-kilter smile on her mouth and making her way out of her room. "Where is that rascal with my shoe?"

There was a giggle around a corner, and with a quick wave to her friend, Anna was off like a light, zoning on the bright ball of red hair dashing across polished halls. Careening to the left, Pippin dashed and dodged around various Elven nobles and messengers, laughing wildly. Anna came close behind, apologizing for pushing and nudging her way around the confused patrons of Elrond.

"Pardon me, I'm so sorry," she skirted around another elegant and tall man, his brow furrowed.

"Peregrin Took!" She called, "Get back here!"

Pushing her way through the crowd, Anna found a young Hobbit in quite the predicament, held by a very blond man.

_'No,'_ she realized, _'He's an elf...'_

"And where are you going, Master Hobbit?" He asked kindly, plucking her silver slipper from Pippin's hand and giving the boy a questioning glance.

"That is mine!" She called, before her shoe disappeared for good.

His blue eyes snapped to hers, and her breath caught. He openly stared at her, and she was unable to turn her gaze away until he smiled, bending on one knee, his shoe between them. Flushing brightly at the display, Anna quickly reached for her shoe, gasping when he pulled away and _tsk_ed at her, a smirk on his mouth.

Finally, huffing at all the stares they had drawn, Anna lifted her skirts a bit and raised her foot to place it in the slipper. The Elven man grabbed her ankle, making her jump, and easily slid the silk over her toes.

After a moment, Anna tugged at her foot, trying to get him to let go, but he merely grinned.

"May I ask your name, my Lady?"

"You may when you have released me, sir," she shot back, trying to recall her limited edition of _Gone With the Wind_ and the beautiful snappish qualities of Scarlet Ohara. She didn't remember the name of her town, but stories filled her mind easily, and she could recall them with stark clarity.

"I will release you when I have learned how to call you back," he smiled, teeth glowing.

She tugged at his grip again, but it was as firm as steel.

He raised a brow in mocking.

Anna flushed.

"Anastasia," she muttered, knowing that, as an Elf, he would hear her. "That is my name."

He smiled in triumph before lowering her captured foot to the floor and rising. He was a good bit taller than her, as she had to bend her neck to see even his collarbone when he straightened.

"It's rude, you know," she spat, embarrassed, "To ask someones name without giving your own."

He smiled then, giving her a very formal bow.

"I am Legolas Greenleaf, son of Thranduil, Prince of Mirkwood."

Anna flushed even deeper, an overwhelming feeling of mortification sweep over her.

_'I just snapped at a Prince...'_

"Well," she cleared her throat, giving a wobbly curtsy before smiling up at him, "I must be going, Prince, you see, I have to get to the dining hall. The feast will be beginning soon."

She went to leave, but he stopped her, calling her name.

"Lady Anastasia," she shivered, he made is sound so much more beautiful than she thought it was, "Allow me to escort you. I would like you to dine with me and my kin, if you would be so gracious as to agree."

She whipped around to question him, but he seemed serious about his proposal.

If there was one thing that Anna would ask for, it would be Arwen and her knowing stare, which would be so useful at that moment. He was so open, strange and different than any of the other Elves she had seen, and now she questioned what all his offering included. They had such odd customs and cultures, nearly ancient and yet new.

"She can't, I'm afraid," Pippin decided to chime in, feeling entirely out of the conversation. "She's sitting with us Hobbits."

There seemed to be a battle of wills as the two stared at each other, one only three feet tall and the other easily six.

"Alright, alright, boys," Anna jumped in diplomatically, as she always did when her brothers would fight, "How about I spend half of the feast with you, Pippin, and the others, and the rest of the night with you, Prince Greenleaf? Does that fix things?"

The blond man smiled, "Address me as Legolas, please, Lady Anastasia."

"Yes, alright," she hurried to end their meeting, "Legolas, then, is that fine with you?"

He smiled deviously, "As long as I get to walk in with you on my arm."

Pippin turned three shades of pink with indignation.

Anna took a deep breath and calmed herself.

"Fine, I will walk in with you, Legolas."

He offered her his arm and she looped her own through his, her chest heaving with a sigh.

"Pip, darling," she said kindly, softly, "I will be there right after this whole introduction...thing," she cupped his cheek with her free hand, "Okay? Don't be upset with me."

"I'm not upset with you," he muttered, glaring at the blond head of a very self-satisfied Elven prince.

"Will you go and tell Frodo about me? So I don't scare him half to death," she informed the young Hobbit.

Pippin grinned, "He knows all about you! Even Sam couldn't stop talking about you to him."

"Good, now run along, I'll see you soon."

He huffed, but nodded, stomping through the crowd.

"You are good with young ones," the Elf to her left said, "Do you have any of your own?"

"Children? No!" She laughed, "I had younger siblings. I was the eldest, so I had to watch over them often. And," she added, after a moments thought, "He is older than he appears. Apparently, Hobbits age rather well. He acts like a child, though."

"Ah, I see," he looked at her, "You appear too young to be married, even for a human, but I believed it best to ask."

"You appear very young yourself," she fought back, "But It seems that doesn't truly matter about Elves. They could be centuries old and look like teenagers."

He chuckled, warm and masculine against her side.

"I am two-thousand, nine-hundred and thirty-one years of age," he grinned as she released him and stepped back, nearly horrified.

"_How_?"

"Immortality," he chuckled.

"Don't you get bored?"

His brow furrowed.

"Bored?"

"Yes," she found herself speaking without thinking. "You have an infinite amount of time, but what do you do with it? Human's may die quickly, but we cherish every moment, every emotion, every pain and fleeting pleasure with so much reverence because it may be the last time we ever feel something. We fade so quickly, but we burn so bright-how do you live forever with the same enthusiasm as you did centuries before?"

He considered her for a moment, then he turned forward again.

"I never thought that my appreciation for life has waned," he mused, "But I was much more reckless years ago. I am merely a child in the eyes of my people," he informed her, "I suppose, to one with only a few years in their whole life, my own would seem...tedious."

"I meant no offense," and this was true.

"And none was taken. Come," he took her arm in his again and led them forward. "We must greet Elrond."

The two walked together, looking quite a striking pair in their matching greens and silver. Anna could feel Arwen's bright stare as the band of Mirkwood Elves approached Elrond and his daughter, perched upon their thrones. Legolas bowed, and Anna gave a brief curtsy, eyes downcast.

"_Nossnya," _Elrond smiled at Legolas, "_manenië adarthein?"_

_"My kin," _Arwen mouthed to Anna, and she carefully read the lips of her friend, _"How fares your father?"_

_"Mae, ara Elrond," _Legolas responded, his voice soft. Anna stared at him for a second too long and he caught her gaze with a sidelong glance.

_"He is well," _Anna looked at Arwen again, watching, _"King Elrond."_

_"Almië, nossnya," _Elrond spoke again, "_ná moina hí."_

_"Be at peace, brethren," _Anna read, _"You are safe here."_

Legolas gave what sounded like a gracious thank you to Elrond before he moved to lead her from the royal duo. He stopped when the King spoke again.

"And Lady Anastasia," The Elven King now spoke in Western-speech, "How are your wounds?"

Legolas gave her a shocked glance, but schooled himself quickly.

"They are much better, Lord Elrond, and I thank you for all the hospitality you and Arwen have shown me these days. Your kingdom is beautiful, and as my body grows stronger, I hope to see more of it."

Elrond was pleased by her praise.

"And your wounds no longer bother you?"

Her smile was tight lipped.

"No, my Lord. Your daughter is a marvelous healer, as are you. I thank you, once again, for you gracious attentions."

Had she always spoken like this? She couldn't remember.

"Go along then, child, feast and enjoy Rivendell, for it is open to you as if you were one of my own people," he motioned to the hall, and both the Human and the Elf bowed again before turning and finding a table.

"Wounds?" Legolas asked, once they were far enough away.

"I...I was injured when I came to Rivendell."

"And when was that?" He pressed.

"Why do you wish to know?"

They stopped by the table of the Hobbits, staring at each other rather harshly.

"I wish to know what injured you."

"And I wish to know why my injuries concern you."

They glared.

"Tell me."

"No."

The Hobbits watched warily.

Legolas suddenly backed away, his face lightening considerably.

"Forgive my impertinence," he looked sheepish, "I must admit, I am usually more tactful than to push a lady into revealing information. I must beg your forgiveness," he intoned somberly, putting himself on his knees.

Anna softened, "Oh, you're all right. Stand up, I forgive you."

He bowed again, low, before disappearing through the throngs of people to find a suitable table for himself and his fellow Mirkwood Elves.

"Well," Sam cleared his throat, "That...was odd..."

Anna, unable to help herself, chuckled at the young Hobbits bluntness.

"I'm sorry I made your dinner so awkward," she nudged Sam with her shoulder. "And where is this Frodo I have heard so much about?"

A Hobbit with thick, black hair and wide, frightened eyes looked at her from around Sam. She smiled and waved, pleased to meet the last Hobbit of the company at last.

"Your friends speak of little else," she smiled, hoping to put him at ease. "It is good to finally meet the good friend of my friends. I hope we can come to know each other after a few days."

He nodded, a little less severe.

"I hope for that as well," he said at last. "I have heard much about you."

"Oh?" She glanced at the Pippin and Merry, who were both grinning, and a smirking Sam, "Telling stories, are we, boys? Well, I should like to hear them."

They spent some time revealing what they had said before their tales morphed into great songs. The great hall was filled with smoke and food and laughter, and Anna felt at home around the odd creatures.

After realizing this, she questioned that feeling.

_'Where was I born again? It's the name...of another great city, an older one. Troy! Yes, Troy, North Carolina. Next is Carthage...and it's funny because...because," _the young woman frowned, focusing. _'Because of a parallel in history. And my parents were...Nancy...no...that was an aunt. Claire and...Steve? Yes, that's right. And my brothers...died...'_

That made the wound on her hip throb, and she tried to ignore it.

_'The wounds bind me to this land, this odd place,'_ she knew that, somehow, deep within, she would never return home. Not alive, at the very least.

_'I died,'_ she jerked with pain, her entire left side aflame.

_'I died with the lightning. And...and it...took me here...?'_

"Anna? Anna, you don't look good...are you alright? Anna? Answer me!"

Pippin was shaking her and she put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"Easy, Pip..." she whispered, blinking away tears. "It's just my side, okay? I'll be fine, don't cause a scene."

The Hobbits, although worried, backed off. Anastasia Black decided to let her past lie for now-it wasn't ready to be revealed to her, and she could handle that for a while longer. The party, it seemed, was moving, and the boys grabbed at her hands and arms and began to pull her towards another room, with a large fireplace and many Elves speaking in their native tongues. There was a collection of Dwarves to her left, and many people seemed to be speaking at once. As soon as the Hobbits had pulled her in, they left her and snuck around the feet of others, leaving Anna alone and nervous.

"I have found you, once again, alone," Aragorn saddled up to her and she smiled at him.

"It appears so," she shrugged, "Those Hobbits continue to disappear while they are with me."

"Rude to leave a Lady like yourself to face a people you do not know," he grinned, kindly. "How was the Prince of Mirkwood?"

She flinched, "Caught that, did you?"

"Oh, yes, the entire hall did. I thought he was about to pull out his short-sword and make a run at you, the way you two were glaring at each other."

Anna shook her head, "No, he apologized rather quickly for that. He stopped Pippin from running off with my shoe, and then he insisted I walk into the hall with him."

"Yes," Aragorn looked rather serious, "I saw that as well."

Anastasia paused, before saying, "Arwen seemed rather...shocked about it."

Aragorn gave a half-shrug, scanning the crowds for the princess of Rivendell.

"Go," Anna finally said, "Seek out Arwen, I know it pains you to remain with me."

He sighed, "Pains me? Nay, but I do believe you need an escort with you."

"An escort?" Anna laughed, "Thank you, Aragorn, but you are free to go wherever you choose. I'll be fine. Go on," she swatted at him, "Go, I'm fine!"

He smiled at her before disappearing into the crowd, his shoulder cutting through the crowd before him. Anna sighed through her nose, before making her way out into the gardens out of the halls. The moon was bright and cast a soft glow around the many ferns and deep, pungent herbs that perfumed the air. Anna took it all in and sat upon a marble bench, eyes closed in thought.

"I believed our agreement claimed that we were to spend at least half the night together."

Anna jerked, her thoughts severing as if a sharp blade passed through them, and gazed upon the dark robes of the Prince of Mirkwood.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, "I will admit, I had forgotten all about our agreement. The Hobbits are rather distracting."

Lie. She just didn't want to go and sort through a room full of Elves to search for the man that made a fool out of her before the hall.

He nodded, eyes affectionate and warm.

"There is nothing to apologize for," he motioned briefly to the seat beside her, "May I ask your permission to sit?"

Anna thought for a moment, before replying,

"You need not ask, you have it already."

"I thank you," he bowed, briefly, before perching himself daintily on the bench.

"May I...inquire something?"

She gave him a slightly sharp glance.

"If it is about my wounds-"

"Nay, please," he cut her off, "That was indeed impertinent of me and I have begged remission for my rash actions. But I now wish to ask you something, and in a way that will allow us to be more conscious of one another."

He looked earnest as he spoke, and Anna found herself getting lost in his bright eyes.

"Alright," she waved her hand dismissively, "Shoot."

"What?" He looked at her oddly.

Anna laughed at his bewildered expression. "Ask your question."

He sat, rather taught, his brow furrowed. He turned slightly to look at her before muttering,

"Why have you abandoned the festivities to sit among the gardens alone?"

"Oh," she trailed her finger along the marble beneath her, running the long nail along the sharp, dark lines that reminded her of her own scarring. "It is merely that I...I do not speak Elvish or Dwarf, and the Hobbits have gone somewhere and...Well, sometimes we feel alone," she shrugged, "Even in a room full of people."

"Dwarfish," Legolas corrected, "And you are not alone, as long as I am near. I wish you had sought me out among my people, for I could easily translate their words for you."

"I don't know you well enough to seek you out in a room full of people, Prince."

"Legolas. And you have been seen with me in public, as well as walked before the King of Rivendell on my arm. Among my people, we are well acquainted. Whenever you feel alone, merely seek me."

Anna found her mouth tipping upwards at his amicable words.

"I will remember that, Legolas."

He twisted upon his perch to gaze at her fully, his face alight.

"I shall give you your first lesson in Elvish," he took her hand in his, and she stared at her sleeve, making sure it would not move to reveal the abominable marks that lay upon her skin.

"_Mellon,"_ he said, slowly, so that she could repeat it.

"Melon," she copied, and he laughed, his eyes crinkling at the edges. For a moment, his Elven appearance seemed to fade and his air was human. He went from a marble statue to a living man in a moment, and Anna found herself breathless from the change.

"_Mel," _He said, his accent thick, eyes filled with unrestrained mirth.

Anastasia licked her lips, _"Mel..."_

He clapped, proud.

"_On,"_ he continued and she copied him.

"Put it together, keep that sound in your mouth," he told her, "How you say things mean quite a lot in Elvish."

"_Mellon," _she murmured, nervous that it was wrong.

"Friend," he replied, shaking their conjoined hands gently.

"That's what it means?"

"Yes."

"It's pretty," she blushed in the dim light of the evening, "I like your language. Our own sounds so...garish next to it."

"The sound of the words mean little, it is the feeling behind what is said that makes anything worth hearing."

"Or reading," she added.

He nodded, eyes pale and bright.

Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, stared openly at the Human female before him. She had a heart-shaped face and a sweet mouth, eyes as green as leaves from his great home. A fine mate for any Elf, pure in her visage and manner. She was openly fond of him, for her eyes spoke volumes, but there was obvious trepidation and fear that lay within the vermillion irises-and he wished he could somehow assuage her previous pains.

But the time was not right for such invasive questions.

"Come," he offered her his hand, "It is not appropriate for a woman to be with a man without an escort."

She threw her blonde head back and laughed to the stars.

"You and Aragorn both on this escort business!"

"He is a wise man," Legolas said, "As am I, Elf or no. You must be around others to ensure-"

"To ensure what, _mellon_? That you are not being too forward? I believe we passed that in the dining hall."

Legolas took her in, the dress that matched her eyes, her silver slippers that he had caught the young Hobbit carrying away, and lovely crafted belt around her hips, swinging with her dress like fabric.

"You have a sharp tongue," he told her, "If I may be so bold as to claim."

"Your claims are correct," she shrugged, "And I see no point in being _escorted_ anywhere. I am as free as the wind," Anna raised her face to the skies, breathing in the air, "And I do as I please."

"Spirited," he grinned at her blissful expression. "But still a woman. Please, allow me to introduce you to my brethren."

She looked nervous.

"Why?"

"So that you will never be alone, even when I am unable to be there myself."

"I'm fine here, thanks," she went back to tracing the marble with her fingertips.

"What scares you so?" He questioned with a smirk on his sculpted mouth.

"Nothing," she snapped. "I prefer being able to breathe in air instead of smoke. Besides, there's room out here. I don't like cramped spaces."

"You are making excuses, _mellon,"_ he teased, "Come, now...My kin will not bite you."

She rolled her shoulders in agitation before standing, muttering under her breath,

"Silly Elves and their customs..."

"I heard that," Legolas sang, taking her arm in a flash.

"Good," she grinned, "I wanted you to."

He shook his head and led her into the party, a smile stretching himself along his mouth like a cat along a rug bathed in sunlight.

)O(

"Arwen, I think you may be overreacting!"

"You were _alone with him?"_

As serene as the Elves could be, their passions seemed so much more fierce. Anna ran her hand over her face, exhausted. She had been with the party for hours, and she had finally been able to untangle herself from some debate with an Elven woman and came back to her chambers to find Arwen awaiting an explanation for her sudden closeness with the Mirkwood guests.

"Well, yes, briefly. But what does that matter? It's not as if we were...we were doing anything inappropriate!"

"By being alone with him, you have acted _very _inappropriately!" Arwen stalked Anastasia's chambers, her arms crossed over her chest. "You appear very cheap, the way you acted!"

"There wasn't even anyone in the garden!" Anna fought.

"That you could see!"

That made Anna pause.

"Arwen...we just talked...he was a perfect gentleman," Anna pulled at the comb in her hair, feeling restricted and hot in the dresses the Elves wore. She wanted jeans and a T-shirt with rubber and foam flip-flops. Why these images appeared so clearly in her mind was a mystery to her, but she knew every object among her desires.

"I don't understand," Anna huffed, sitting down.

"I know," the Elven princess took a deep breath.

"You do not understand our customs, and that is to be expected," the dark haired woman sat down beside the blonde, her hand resting on her knee. "And so you will be forgiven. The Prince of Mirkwood, however, will be...reprimanded by my father if information finds Elrond on your conversation in the gardens."

"But..._why?"_

Arwen gave her a very pointed glance,

"Because you are an unmarried woman with no family or betrothed. He should not have approached you without another behind him to assure that propriety was withheld."

"Well, we hardly even touched. He held my hand, and taught me Elvish, but that was all."

Her eyes seemed to glow.

"He _touched _you?"

Anna felt like she had just tattled on her friend.

"Well...yes, but, Arwen! Wait, where are you going?!"

"My father will hear of these audacious actions from someone," she snapped, "I may be able to save your young courtiers skin!"

"Stop this!" Anna cried, following her friend, "You are acting insane!"

"You don't understand what he has done!"

Anna, realizing she was barefoot, thanked that the floors of Rivendell were polished wood, smoother than tumbled stones from the great rivers. Dashing after a speedy and infuriated Elven princess, Anastasia turned a corner and ran smack into the older woman with a yelp.

"Arwen, what?-"

"Daughter," Anna heard the clear, ringing voice of Elrond, "And Lady Anastasia."

Both women gave curtsies.

"Hello, father," Arwen greeted, "Prince of Mirkwood."

"Lady Arwen," Legolas greeted, and Anna felt her throat constrict. "Lady Anastasia."

Anna blushed deeply, looking away.

"It is good that we have found you," Elrond commented, "The Lord of Mirkwood here had been telling me an interesting tale. It appears you two were alone for quite some time, Lady Anastasia."

Anna looked up, locking eyes first with the Lord of Rivendell before the blond beside him, who was nodding.

"Yes. But is was only for a few minutes, my Lord, nothing more and I assure you that-"

"I have heard the story from young Legolas," Elrond intoned and Anna fell silent. "He wished to beg my forgiveness, and I said that it was your honor that was endangered. He should beg you, and not me, for his transactions."

Anna looked beseechingly at Arwen, speechless.

Legolas put himself on one knee, his hand in a fist and placed over his heart.

"Lady Anastasia," he said, "Please forgive me for my forward actions. I was admittedly brazen and I am repentant for daring to jeopardize your virtue."

Anna blushed scarlet, and began to babble that his actions did no harm, but he continued.

"I beg your forgiveness."

Anna covered her mouth with her hand.

"I don't understand," she hissed. "This is madness. Absolute madness!"

Legolas looked shocked, and Arwen closed her eyes as if pained.

"Stand up," Anna commanded, and the man swept to his feet. "There is nothing to forgive. You sought me out, you came to me and I accepted and appreciated your presence! There is nothing to...to be ashamed of. _I don't understand_!"

And after that little outburst, she turned on her bare heel and dashed towards her rooms. She heard her name called, but she didn't dare answer or return.

Anna fell into her given floor a rather indelicate mess. She pulled at the laces of the gown and tore it off, throwing the fine silk on the floor. She pulled at her hair and moaned, her side aflame with shocking pain.

"I want to go home," she murmured, tearing up.

_'But I don't even know where that is!'_

**I'm not quite sure if I am to continue this. If anyone would like to see it continue, please review and tell me so! For all those that reviewed before, you made this chapter!-Yukiona.**


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